Truth
707 Words
Daphne woke up to the faint sound of keys. It took her a second to realize where she was. Everything around her was dark, too dark, and for a moment she couldn’t tell how long she’d been there. Her head ached, her body felt heavy, and panic slowly started creeping back in.
The sound came again—the click of a lock.
Before she could react, the door opened and light flooded into the room. It was too sudden, too bright. She flinched, her eyes squinting hard as she quickly raised a hand to shield them.
A figure stepped in.
As her vision slowly adjusted, she made out a man standing just a few steps away from her. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just stood there, looking down at her like he was studying something.
Her breath caught. He had a dark aura that loomed around him.
Standing closely beside him were two men. Probably the man who brought her here. Fear wrapped tightly around her chest as the memory rushed back to the car, and the men who had kidn*pped her.
She tried to sit up quickly, but her body protested. “W-where am I?” Her voice came out shaky, barely steady. She swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving him. “Why did you bring me here?”
He didn’t answer. He just kept staring. Her fingers curled slightly against the floor, her heart pounding harder with every second of silence. She didn’t know who he was. Didn’t know what he wanted.
All she knew was that she was trapped.
And he was the one who put her there.
Gavrill examined the woman carefully. Even in the dim light, he could see it she looked fragile, almost too fragile. Her wrists were thin, her posture unsteady, like she might break under the slightest pressure. This was who they sent? A flicker of irritation crossed his face. What kind of i***t hires someone like this for a job like that?
His voice finally broke the silence. “Who do you work for?”
Daphne flinched. The sound of his voice was calm, but there was something underneath it cold, and dangerous. She swallowed, her throat dry. “I… I don’t understand. I don’t—”
“Don’t lie.” His tone sharpened slightly, not louder, but heavier. It carried weight. Authority. A warning.
She shook her head quickly, panic rising again. “I’m not lying! I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything—”
Gavrill took a slow step closer.
She froze.
Up close, he was even more intimidating. Tall, composed, his presence filling the room without effort. His eyes stayed on her, watching every movement, every reaction, like he was picking her apart piece by piece.
“You were in my room,” he said, voice low. “The same night I was poisoned.”
The words hit her like a slap.
Her eyes widened. “Poisoned? I—I don’t know anything about that! I swear, I don’t even know how I got there, I just—”
“Enough.” The single word cut her off.
Silence fell again.
Gavrill studied her, his gaze narrowing slightly. He studied her. She looked scared and confused and innocent.
If she was acting, she was good.
Too good. He straightened slightly, his expression unreadable again, that didn’t mean she was innocent.
“Look at me,” he said.
Slowly, hesitantly, she did.
“Tell me who you work for and don't lie to me” he continued, his voice quieter now but far more dangerous. “Because if you’re lying, I will know.”
Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening against the floor. “I’m not,” she whispered. “I don’t even know who you are…”
For a moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes.Then it was gone.
He turned away slightly, as if already thinking ahead, already calculating his next move.
Without looking back at her, he spoke again, colder this time. “You’ll stay here until I find out the truth.”
The door opened behind him.
“And for your sake…” he paused briefly, “you better hope you’re telling it.”
The door shut.
- Writer
